A thousand deeds of cool and daring courage were done on that September morning. If you are to form an idea of what our men had to face, you must try to imagine them creeping nearer and nearer to the river through a deadly hail of shot and shell--the engineers working calmly on the bridges while marksmen hidden in the woods were picking them off, and the machine guns and artillery of the enemy were making havoc amongst them; the frail rafts, crowded with men, being hauled to and fro, and death taking its toll every passage; the infantry crawling forward yard by yard up the steep slopes, in spite of the fire from above, and all the while huge shells from the German howitzers hurling up fountains of water from the river or tearing vast holes in the ground. Sudden and hideous death faced our men every minute; yet they "stuck it" with bull-dog courage, and the river was crossed. [Illustration: "He sat down in full view of the enemy, and poured a hail of bullets on the advancing Germans." _From the picture by F. Gardiner._] One splendid deed of heroism must not be forgotten. Near Soissons, where the howitzer fire of the Germans was fierce and continuous, 150 men of the West Kents, Black Watch, and Scottish Borderers were told off to guard a bridgehead. Suddenly the Germans in great force opened fire from the surrounding woods, and a dense column advanced at a run towards the bridge. The little British detachment checked them for a time, but at a heavy loss. A ring of dead lay around the machine gun which was holding back the German advance, and the crew being laid low it ceased to fire. At this fateful moment a big Highlander jumped up from cover, ran forward, seized the Maxim, swung it, tripod and all, across his shoulder, and ran with it to the bridgehead, where, all alone, he sat down in full view of the enemy, and poured a hail of bullets on the advancing Germans. Under this withering fire the column wavered and fled for cover to the fields on either side of the road. As the last of the enemy retired the brave Highlander fell forward on to his gun, riddled with thirty bullets. He had, however, like Horatius of old, saved the bridge, for just as he fell British reinforcements doubled up and put the final touches to the rout of the enemy. * * * * *